When the Church Forgets How to Be a Safe Place

There is something deeply right about a room where people can say, “My name is ___, and I am broken, I am an alcoholic, I am, you fill in the blank” and be met with understanding instead of suspicion. That is why ministries like Alcoholics Anonymous and Celebrate Recovery have helped millions of people take their first honest step toward healing. They create an environment where truth is spoken without fear, where confession is met with compassion, and where accountability flows from love, not shame.

This morning I had a highschool buddy of mine who has dealt with and conquered alcoholism (with Jesus and his recovery group), say this to me "Honestly....that's why I think Celebrate Recovery is really growing at our church and others. You come in knowing you are broken....to feel safe and grow in Christ with others who are broken too". He was relating the real growth of this program with the "artificial" growth of the church.

In many ways, what he said is what the church was meant to be.

The early church was not built on polished appearances or spiritual posturing. It was built on shared weakness and shared grace. Scripture tells us, “Therefore, confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another so that you may be healed” (James 5:16, LSB). Confession was never meant to be a public shaming. It was meant to be a pathway to healing. Yet somewhere along the way, many churches exchanged honesty for image management. We learned how to look strong, sound spiritual, and hide our wounds behind Sunday smiles.

AA and Celebrate Recovery understand something the church sometimes forgets. People do not change because they are judged. They change because they are loved enough to tell the truth. In those rooms, no one pretends to have it all together. Everyone enters on equal ground. No one leads with their victories. They lead with their need. That posture dismantles pride and invites humility. It removes the pressure to perform and replaces it with permission to heal. The foot of the cross is the equal ground the church needs.

When the church becomes a sterile place, where brokenness is whispered about but never addressed, we lose the heart of the gospel. Jesus did not gather the morally impressive. He gathered sinners, doubters, addicts, failures, and the overlooked. He did not sanitize the mess. He stepped into it. He touched lepers. He ate with tax collectors. He restored people others had written off. A church that reflects Christ will not be afraid of messy stories or uncomfortable confessions.

This does not mean the church lowers its biblical standards. Grace is not permission to stay broken. AA and Celebrate Recovery are not spaces where sin is celebrated. They are spaces where sin is named honestly so that freedom can begin. In the same way, the church must hold truth and love together. Truth without love becomes condemnation. Love without truth becomes compromise. But when truth is spoken in love, healing becomes possible.

Paul reminds us, “Bear one another’s burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2, LSB). Burdens cannot be borne if they are never shared. Fear cannot be healed if it is never voiced. Failure cannot be redeemed if it is always hidden. A church that looks more like a recovery room than a courtroom will be a place where real transformation happens.

If someone can walk into a recovery meeting and say, “I relapsed,” and still be welcomed, prayed for, and encouraged to keep going, likewise, the church should be the safest place on earth to admit spiritual struggle. Imagine a church where people can say, “My marriage is falling apart,” “I am battling addiction,” or “I am angry at God,” and be met with prayer instead of gossip, guidance instead of shame, and love instead of distance.

When the church recovers its role as a place of grace-filled honesty, it becomes what it was always meant to be. A family of redeemed sinners walking together toward wholeness. Not perfect people pretending. But broken people healing, growing, and being transformed by the mercy of Jesus.

That kind of church does not repel the hurting. It draws them in. And in a world desperate for hope, that may be one of the most powerful witnesses we have left. Is Ignite this kind of church?

Soli Deo Gloria,
Pastor Jody